Dead Plate oneshots

Shadows of a Broken Heart

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The apartment that Vincent Charbonneau and Rody Lamoree had shared for the past year was now a mausoleum of unspoken love and forgotten hopes. Once, it had been a haven, a place where Vincent's quiet affection for Rody had found some semblance of solace. But now, it felt like a hollow shell, echoing with the emptiness of Vincent's unfulfilled dreams.

Vincent sat in the dim light of his desk lamp, surrounded by textbooks and notes that he barely glanced at. His focus was on the clock on the wall, each tick a painful reminder of the time slipping away from him. The nights that had once been filled with warmth and shared moments now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the painful reality of Rody's new relationship with Manon Vacher.

The evening had started like any other, with Vincent retreating to the safety of his study while Rody prepared for a night out. The excitement in Rody's voice was palpable as he talked about Manon, his new girlfriend. Vincent had forced a smile, masking the deep ache that gnawed at his heart. He had watched Rody leave, his heart breaking with each step that took him further away.

Now, as the apartment grew darker, Vincent's loneliness was almost suffocating. He had hoped that his nights with Rody, though casual, would eventually lead to something more. Each touch, each shared moment, had been a fragile hope that perhaps, someday, Rody would see him as more than just a fleeting distraction. But Rody's infatuation with Manon had driven that hope further from reach.

The sounds of Rody's return shattered the silence. Vincent's heart raced, a mix of hope and dread swelling within him. Rody's footsteps approached, and the door to their shared room creaked open. Rody entered, his face illuminated by the faint glow of the hallway light. He looked different-happier, perhaps, but it was a happiness that was no longer meant for Vincent.

"Hey, Vinnie," Rody said, his voice bright but with an edge of concern. "Manon and I had a great time. You should have come."

Vincent forced a smile, though it felt like a painful effort. "I'm sure you did. I didn't want to intrude."

Rody's expression softened, a hint of guilt in his eyes. "I wish you'd come. It would have been nice to have you there."

Vincent's heart ached at Rody's words. He wanted to scream, to tell Rody how much he had longed to be part of that happiness, but the words were trapped in his throat. Instead, he managed a weak nod. "Maybe next time."

As Rody headed to his room, Vincent felt the crushing weight of his solitude. The laughter that had filled the apartment earlier now seemed like a cruel taunt, a reminder of the joy that was so out of reach for him. He sat alone, the silence of the apartment pressing down on him, feeling more oppressive with each passing minute.

The memories of their nights together played on a loop in Vincent's mind-the stolen kisses, the moments of intimacy that had meant so much to him but had been so fleeting for Rody. He remembered the way Rody's eyes would close in contentment, the way he would curl up beside Vincent after their encounters. To Vincent, those moments had been sacred, but now they felt like mere fragments of a dream that had slipped away.

The apartment, once a sanctuary of shared secrets, now felt like a prison. Vincent wandered through the rooms, his steps echoing in the emptiness. He passed by the small details of their life together-the mismatched mugs they had used, the books they had shared. Each item seemed like a reminder of what had been lost, a symbol of the connection that had faded into the background of Rody's new life.

Hours dragged on, and Vincent found himself sinking into the depths of his despair. The loneliness was all-consuming, a black hole that seemed to swallow every shred of hope. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to escape the painful reality of Rody's absence.